Back in my college days before I tore my knee ligaments, I played pick-up basketball at the UCLA gym, which had 3 open courts. Within these 3 courts came unspoken rules. The best players would play on the first court. When I say best, I mean that they were legitimately solid. These weren’t your typical scrubs that would play once in a while. These players were all above 6’5″ with some of them being good enough to walk on as a bench-dweller on the actual college team. The 2nd court featured players that were decent, but not good enough to play on the first court. The third court featured everyone else that didn’t have freakishly athletic bodies or a Larry Bird-esque shot. Yet even though the talent wasn’t particularly great, we all had our fun, competing against each other in a relatively even playing field. One particular day, the first two courts were backlogged with players, causing a trickling down of players into the third court.

When it was time for my pick-up team to get on the court, I gulped. The shortest guy on the opposing team was 6’3″, at least a head taller than me. I stood, all 5’8″ of me, wondering who I could possibly guard on the other team. Reluctantly, I took the shortest “giant” and we started with them having the ball. He knew from the get-go that he’d have his way with me. Dribbling twice, he steps back and shoots. Swish. Next possession, same story: another shot, another basket.

As we were running back, my teammate tells me to not let him shoot. I play my opponent closer, and he, also being much quicker than me, blows past me and makes an easy layup. By then, it was already 3-0, on the verge of being a shutout. No matter what I did, I could not stop the guy. 10 minutes later, our team was already off the court, losing 11-1, outclassed and dominated. I left chuckling, knowing that I absolutely had no chance of stopping him.

At my first Apex, I had the gracious opportunity of playing Armada in a Sheik vs. Peach match-up, one that I excelled in, or so I thought…. From the moment the announcer said “Go!”, I was cornered, gasping for space. Quickly, Armada nailed a strange down-tilt which would somehow lead to a flurry of aerials that eventually led to a kill somehow. Keep in mind, people were still bewildered by what Armada’s Peach was capable of at the time. I shook my head and tried to stay in the game.

I’d run away; He’d intercept me.

I’d land an aerial; He’d land something more damaging.

I’d try to recover; He had it all covered.

It was one of my first encounters with a “god” and I left wondering what I could have done.

I left with the same feeling of confusion and helplessness that I had playing basketball against the guy at the UCLA gym.

Watching the bracket matches between a “god” and an average smasher was like watching a helpless sheep walk into the slaughter. There was a notable gap between the two. Most of the sets between a “god” and an “up-and-comer” would end up being severely one-sided. Even when a player would come close, even winning a game once a while, you always saw the “god” coming out on top, often winning the final game in dominating fashion. Once in a while we would have exciting moments, such as the classic DaShizWiz vs. Mew2King at Revival of Melee or KirbyKaze besting Hungrybox at Apex 2012 in winner’s, but for the most part, any power rankings in 2010-2013 would be a combination of the five gods (Mango, Mew2King, Armada, Hungrybox, and PPMD) and everyone else didn’t matter. No one in their right mind would bet on any other player to win a tournament. Winning a set against the big 5 was considered a huge upset.

Are times changing though?

When I watch the next tier of players compete against the “5 gods”, the victory margins have shrunk over the past couple of years. I remember so vividly, Axe putting Mango against the ropes at Evo 2013 before Mango put on an amazing comeback to win the match and later the set. Wobbles was able to send PPMD, Hungrybox, and Mango into loser’s bracket at the same tournament. European phenomenon Leffen boasts victories over both Hungrybox and Armada in their last encounters. Even watching SKTAR3, I witnessed players such as Hax and Westballz being a few small mistakes away from taking matches and possibly sets against Mew2King and Armada.

Perhaps I’m acting a little prematurely in saying that Leffen belongs with the other big 5 players. Maybe it’s a little brazen to predict that the “big 5” will be upset more frequently by the next tier of players. Within the next year, it is very possible that 10-15 players could win a national given the rate of improvement. Players such as aMSa, Leffen, Hax, and Westballz are prime examples. Leffen can very well take Evo2014 if he’s running hot. Furthermore, I am making a bold prediction that at least one of the big 5 will not make it into the final 8 of Evo2014; something that has not happened at a national since Mango would sandbag with secondaries. The skill level among the top 20-25 players has become so great that one minor mistake could mean the difference between winning and losing a set. It’s very possible that one of the big 5 could be caught with his pants down and simply lose.

It’s interesting to see the skill level increase rapidly, not just at the top, but at the lower levels of play as well.  Videos and resources are more abundant than ever. For example, the new 20XX mod has allowed for players to practice shield pressure and combos without the need for other players. It’s not uncommon to see first timers at tournaments already implementing advanced techniques such as shield-dropping, double shines, and wall techs. We all have witnessed aMSa’s meteoric rise to prominence in just 1-2 years of attending tournaments. Maybe there will be several more aMSas that will come out of nowhere. Maybe there will be a new champion crowned at a national within the next year. After all, we’re in the realm of the “platinum era”. Who knows what can happen?

MIOM|Tafokints